What Side am I On?
by menz815
Summary: Lincoln and Charlie begin to question whether or not they really are on the right side. Alt!Charlie, Lincoln Lee, and Olivia. P/O if you squint, and I suggest you do.


_A/N: This is the first time I've ever written a fic for Fringe that wasn't about PO I think. This sort of came about because of some gifs I saw on Tumblr, manipulating scenes so it looked like Lincoln and Olivia had scenes together. And to be honest, I really want them to have scenes together and like the idea of them, so that's where this whole fic sort of came from._

_Disclaimer: Don't own it._

_

* * *

__This was turning into a pretty shitty week_, thought Charlie Francis. In the span of two days, he'd lost both his partners; one to injury, another to an assignment. Not to mention the fact that he had one of hell of a headache from being hit over the head.

He was still trying to process what the Secretary had told him. He had been informed of the existence of the other side, and the people there. _Monsters in our skin_. If he hadn't been Charlie Francis, he would have shuddered. He believes it though because Olivia Dunham would have never done what she had done. But a monster would.

He feels the bugs underneath his skin.

* * *

Two weeks later, he's ordered to go see her. They can't seem to get anything out of her despite various techniques to extract information. Not that it really matters since Olivia has gathered quite a bit of intel already from the other side. Charlie worries about her, probably more than he should. She'd always been able to take care of herself, but their friendship ran deep, and he just couldn't help it.

He doesn't expect to feel sorry for this other Olivia. He runs a hand over the back of his head as he sits across from her. She's been chained to a table; it's not nearly as dim as an interrogation room would be. He supposes this is still some brand of torture. He knows she is kept in the dark.

Through matted hair and squinted eyes, she stares at him.

It's not a glare, he can see the affection there just below the surface. It makes him miss his friend, the one who looks so much like her, but is not like her. He feels a surge of anger that this even had to happen.

He asks her questions. She refuses to answer. He is the good cop. The bad ones will come later.

He pauses before he leaves. "What am I like over there?"

"You're dead," she says flatly. There's not much life to her left. Just a steely resolve. She may as well be a machine. Charlie thinks maybe she is.

"How?" He asks. He's not sure why he should be upset, they are monsters over there after all, but his legs feel like jello. Maybe he _is_ obsolete.

"Shapeshifters, from this side. They killed him."

He sees a tear slowly track down her cheek. She's haunted, by him and by so many others. This could all be a ruse to garner his sympathy, but he knows her, even if he doesn't. He would know if she was lying.

He believes her.

He comes back the next week to see her again.

* * *

He spends three months alone, so when he gets out, he's ready for company. For her bright eyes and mischievous smile. But she's gone, and just like Charlie he worries for her safety over there.

Lincoln had been in love with Olivia for awhile. Had even asked her out once, but it was pretty much completely unrequited. He didn't think Frank deserved her, but he wanted to see her happy. He really meant that too, and wasn't just saying it. He'd had enough sorrow in his life; he didn't need that burden lingering in his chest.

"You should go see her," Charlie says to him later that week. Lincoln hadn't planned on it. After all, he'd spent three months mending from a burnt crisp because of her and her friends, and while he was not one who was quick to anger, he didn't see the need to see her.

But curiosity got the better of him.

She wasn't being treated well. She was dangerously thin and covered with bruises. Her hair was blond, which he found odd at first, but after a few minutes he thought it suited her. When he looked in her eyes, he thought he saw something familiar in them. But before he could place it, she asked him in a hoarse voice why he was there.

"I'm not sure," he sighed.

"You're her partner." It's a statement, not a question, and he wonders how she can tell. Or maybe he just saw him on that day all those months ago.

He nods. "Was her partner." He then corrects.

She tenses then. So she knows. She's like a wounded animal, and for some reason he can barely hold back his desire to reach out and comfort her.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" He says barely above a whisper.

"More than you know."

He thinks maybe he does.

It's only later when he's lying in bed that he realizes why her eyes had looked so familiar. He sees the same thing when he looks in the mirror every day.

* * *

There's a question perched on both their lips. Neither dare to ask it, but they feel it in their hearts. It's an uncertainty now, their own lives, their job. All of it in some way a lie.

When Charlie and Lincoln talk now, it's of her and not of their Olivia. Her world may be responsible for the crumbling of their own, but she is just one person. They feel the injustice of what has been done to her. Charlie grows a tad bit shaky at the thought that his doppelganger is dead because of agents of his own side.

They try to push it away, but it nags at them, slowly tearing away their resolve.

* * *

Lincoln goes to see her every week it seems. He wonders what the Secretary must think since he knows that every visit is being recorded, but he's always careful to never let his sympathies be known. She answers any questions he might have, probably because she knows the Secretary has almost everything he could possibly need already.

He's found that she's not as different from Olivia as he would have thought. There's so much about her that he already knows, so much he can tell about her because he knows what every little nuance of her face means. But he's intrigued by the subtle differences. She's like a puzzle with a few missing pieces; he's working furiously to get the whole picture.

"What's home like?" He asks her one day. He keeps his tone serious, but his eyes are earnest. He needs to know.

"It's a lot like here. The differences are really all in the little things. Who's on what dollar bill, different street names, slightly different history books."

It's not what he meant and she knows it. But she won't give anyone the satisfaction of talking about _him_ or her sister or her niece. It's enough to let Lincoln know though that's she just as human as he is. She was always going to protect them.

The next day he and Charlie start on working on a way to free her.

* * *

Their plan is shaky at best, but it's all they have, and neither feels comfortable in a world where justice is not being served. At least that's their excuse. The truth is, it's Olivia, and it no longer matters that she's the wrong one because they've come to care for her just like they had for the other.

Lincoln goes in to see her like he normally does. The guards don't find it strange anymore that he wants to talk to the prisoner. They'd always thought of him as some type of brown-noser anyways because he had gotten so far at such a young age. They most likely assumed he was doing whatever he could to garner even more favor with the boss. That didn't bother Lincoln. He was ambitious, and when he set his mind to something he was gonna get it done. He only hoped today would be the same.

When he walks into the room, she doesn't look up. She doesn't know she has an ally, let alone two, two agents with enough security clearance to possibly pull this stunt off. She doesn't know the effect she has on people. The way she makes them care.

He twists the dial on his watch. He only has one minute before the cameras will be back online, so he doesn't waste any time before explaining.

"Listen, me and Charlie are gonna get you out of here."

She looks up. He might have said she was shocked, but she's wasted away so much that not even that emotion can really register on her face. She's just dead inside. His heart breaks for her.

"But you have to do something for me." Lincoln continues.

She hesitates. He can tell she's trying to work out what's going on in his head. "What's that?" She croaks.

"I need you to beat me up." He says, as he begins to uncuff her.

There's not nearly as much hesitation that time.

* * *

When the guards come to pry her off of him, Lincoln is pretty impressed with how much damage she's managed to do. He licks his bloody lip, and can already feel his right eye swelling. She's struggling against the guards now, so he shouts out, "let me handle her."

The guards look at him like he's crazy. He'd just gotten the shit beat out of him, and he was going to do what?

"She's not going to get away with what she just did," Lincoln says as menacing as possible.

The guards catch his meaning and one of them pipes up, "but sir, the Secretary…"

"Do you think the Secretary cares what I do with her? Who do you think sent me?" He fires back angrily.

They hand her over to him reluctantly. One of them guards sort of smirks at him on the way out. He probably figures Lincoln's going to get quite the punishment for this one, but he wants to see him fall on his ass, so he's just going to let it happen. Lincoln doesn't care, only fixes him with a stony gaze. He's the one in control.

He leads her out into the hallway then, walking quickly to the room in the very back of this underground facility. He knows for a fact there's no camera there. Charlie and he had seen the scans of this building; he would be waiting for him there.

"What held you up?" Charlie greets them as they enter the dark room. He's standing over a rather large device which he can only assume is something to help Olivia get back to her own side.

"Problem with the guards. Didn't seem to think I had clearance to do this."

"Well, you don't," Charlie said.

"Yeah, but they don't need to know that," Lincoln said with a grin.

He leads Olivia to the device and as Charlie explains how this is all going to work, Lincoln realizes this is the second time he's going to have to say goodbye to Olivia Dunham. Maybe the last time he's going to see her face. And he can't understand why that should matter, or why he should care so much. But he does.

"Why are you doing this?" She asks once Charlie is done with his explanation. She honestly wants to know, wants to understand. And suddenly so does Lincoln.

He pulls her to him, running soft fingers down her neck, and kisses her lightly, delicately. She doesn't respond at first, but then he feels the softest of pressure as she tentatively returns the gesture, and finally he knows why he is doing this.

When he pulls away, he tells her. "Because you look like her, but you're different. It's your eyes." He gazes intently into them then; to his surprise she doesn't look away. "You're not a monster."

"You're one of us," Charlie finishes gruffily.

She gives them the smallest of smiles then. It's probably the first time he's ever seen it. It's lovely. Lincoln wishes he could have seen her in a happier time; he wishes he could have made her smile.

"Come with me," she says to both of them. She's afraid for their safety, he can read that in the furrow of her brow.

"We'll be fine here," Charlie says. They had already decided it was best for them to stay here in this universe. It was where they belonged and they could do more help here than on the other side. But it didn't stop Lincoln from wondering. What would it be like if he crossed over?

"Thank you," she breathes, and then in a glimmer she's gone. There's no time for mourning, but they already feel her absence keenly. This woman that didn't belong, and yet she had found her way into their hearts.

And as Lincoln triggers the alarm, and Charlie vanishes with the device, they both wonder, in the coming war, what side will they be on?

* * *

Please review! This was sort of something new for me, so I'd like to hear what y'all think . :)


End file.
